


Dragon Age the Battle for Life

by tigereyes45



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5909611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas is a threat to us all. So of course the grey warden isn't going to sit this one out, neither will a group of people many thought would never come together, but they all have a common goal, and they will work hard to reach it. Stopping Solas is going to require a lot. The dead may come back to life, while the living will face things far beyond their own realm. Or realms for some. Updates Fridays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Inquisitor?”

Drenis Lavellan looks up and around to find the source of the voice. She did not recognize it nor did she see it’s source. Hopeful it was Leliana’s contact she takes a deep breath. That did not help stop the chills from spreading down her back. She did not want to be standing under this tree in the awful rain and cold winds forever. Who’s brilliant idea was it to meet in the marsh? Oh, that’s right Leliana’s contact. She couldn’t wait to leave.

Looking around once more, and still seeing the source of the voice nowhere Drenis grabs the necklace that was the message stone Dorian had given her. She clutches it for moral support and to aid in holding her temper for having been left out in the rain, waiting for so long. She was not to be messed with right now.

“No one has called me that in a long time. Come out where I can see you.” She orders. Maybe she was not the leader of the Inquisition anymore but she still commanded as much respect as she did when she was. She grips her staff with her remaining hand as a figure from the dark shadows of a nearby barn walks over. Drenis found herself wondering how long the contact had been standing there in that withered, shabby, old barn. Half the walls were covered in holes and it was no good for stopping the rain. That was why she 

“I did not mean to anger you. I will admit to not knowing your name beyond Inquisitor Lavellan. And that for a long time you had gone by just Inquisitor. Leliana never told me anything otherwise.” The stranger was an elf and she wore very old and worn down armor. Yet Drenis held no doubt that it was strong enough to withstand her lighting spells or her fade tricks. Something about the armour felt off. She tries to place it but could not think of what it could possibly be. It was even harder to tell if the alertness she felt from the oddity was from just the armour or the wearer as well.

“Ah, I suppose it would be Divine Victoria now. I’m so proud of her.” The stranger says correcting herself before looking around. Was it to avoid her gaze or to see if anyone was spying on them, Drenis wasn’t sure, but she could see the pride and sadness that swelled up in those green, grayish eyes as they spoke of Leliana.

“Yes. She has come far.” Drenis was happy that she had been able to help Leliana as she had. Even if she was Divine now and the Inquisition had officially disbanded Leliana still sent her letters of caution and worry from time to time. She wanted to help stop Solas as much as they did, even if she could not do it openly. She had trained Harding very thoroughly before her early retirement from the inquisition.

“I believe I still do not know your name. Mind sharing?” Drenis questions. A large gust of wind comes from nowhere as the question was asked and Drenis holds steadfast, trying not to show any weakness, even to the cold, in front of this stranger.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” The other elf says cheekily.

“Drenis, but you may call me by my clan’s name. Lavellan.”

“Lavellan certainly does rolls off the tongue. You are very lucky to have such a fantastical name.”

Drenis raises an eyebrow showing her impatience.

“My name is Neira Surana, but many call me other things.” She answers with a small tilt of her head and a slight smile on her lips. She gave off an air of happy bliss despite the weather as if nothing could ruin her mood. Drenis had met many people like that. It was always a facade.

“The Hero of Ferelden. I was sort of expecting it to be you.” Drenis was not very surprised. Of course it was the warden commander. Why else would Leliana be so secretive with her contact’s identity and refuse to tell her anything of her before hand? She also told Drenis that she would not need to be armed for Leliana knew her contact would not try to attack the former inquisitor, that they simply wanted to talk and become allies. Of course she brought her staff anyways. Better safe than sorry. However, Drenis was not impressed so far by the legendary grey warden.

“Yes. That is one title. However titles are hollow compared to what one can do when they are seen as a shadow.” The grey warden says, her voice carrying wisdom clearly beyond her years. She didn’t look much older then Lavellan, but looks could be deceiving. Every mage knew that for they deal with such creatures that are truly demons in disguise all the time.

Ignoring the advice offered Drenis listens as Surana continues. “I am told that you received my letter those many years ago. I must thank you for keeping the love of my life safe.”

Drenis rolls her eyes. Was she trying to appeal to her sympathetic side to win her over. She still had not proven she was who she claimed to be. Thinking back, she wondered if she had made the right choice between choosing Alistair and Hawke. Varric hadn’t thought so. Sometimes she didn't either.

“Why had you asked to meet with me? I am no longer inquisitor I have no way of helping you and I am needed for much more important tasks.”

“I have information on Fen’Harel.”

Drenis stares at Surana. Scrutinizing every detail of her face. If only Iron Bull was here he could tell her if she was being deceived or if the grey warden was truly speaking what she thought was the truth.

“It’s true then. You are every bit as untrusting as Alistair and Leliana said you would be. I guess when one has as much authority as you once had it would be hard to come by real friends.” Neira sighs but still gives Drenis a small knowing smile. As if she knows how much power can affect a person. She was known for taking down the traitor Loghain, but she had no real experience with the powers of the court, with having to constantly deal with the political garbage that Drenis had to always deal with. The shems ways were horrible. How Neira spoke to her was on a more personal level then Drenis felt they had reached yet.

That bothered Drenis. “Don’t talk as if you know me.” She snaps.

Neira stops smiling. The mood around her shifting. It almost felt as if she was moving the veil to the fade itself. “I see. Alright then. Introductions are out of the way now. So to business then. I’ll make this quick so as to not waste your time Lavellan.” Neira spat the name out showing her distaste in the attitude Drenis had shown.

“You said you have information on Fen’Harel?” Drenis says directing the conversation onward. Not really caring what the warden thought of her. This last few years of her life, ever since the Inquisition had begun had caused her trouble. Trouble that had made her even more cold and distant then she had been before.

“Yes I do. Shame really, that he has isolated you. Though I understand why. Other elves aren’t willing to talk to the one who so clearly threatens their leader.” She rotates the cuffs of the grey heavy armor she wore. Never before had Drenis seen a mage so equipped like a warrior. She was beginning to question if she was a mage at all. Drenis could feel the power coming off of her however. She was either a mage or an extremely powerful reaver. “Even if they once had personal relations with him.” Neira raises her eyes and give Drenis a look that made her pause. How had she known? Did Leliana tell her?

"Has he not isolated you?" It was true less and less elves were in Thedas, and few ever spoke to her. Still, she trusted even fewer. Her own kind was serving a false god so he could destroy this world to return his old one. Her old feelings for Solas has long since vanish and she saw clearly that he was an enemy, but she also knew that Solas wasn’t just isolating her from her people but any elves that truly believed in her cause or other elves who held power that he thought may go against him. Despite not trusting Surana she was certained the grey warden, elf, mage wouldn’t go against the world she fought so hard to protect.

"No, but I still have quite a few elven friends. Velana has just come up from the deep roads recently. Very angry. Told me some elves went down after her, and asked her to travel with their group to the holy land of elves. For restoration of their once immortal lives. Once they realized she was a grey warden they were hesitate to take her. Then they found out just how strong a tainted Dalish is."

"Are you saying they don't take elves that are in the Grey Wardens?"

"No I'm saying Velana probably said something and scared 'em off and they used that as an excuse." She says closing her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest. The rain didn't seem to bother the shorter elf and she was becoming soaked as she stood out in the open. Drenis was grateful for the cover of the tree now.

"So what was the point of telling me that lovely story?"

"They're recruiting."

Drenis thought for a moment. He had used spies in the inquisition perhaps they could do so to him now. Who would they use? Harding may know or be able to find out. Drenis left her thoughts as the Grey warden began walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"A shadow has much more freedom than flesh and a title. Find yourself some shadows Inquisitor. We'll be in touch." Neira says. Drenis watches as the other was seemingly swallowed up by shadows from around her.

Drenis was sure she was a mage now.

Opening the door Drenis walks across the wooden floor to the backroom. Closing her door behind her, she falls onto her bed and remains there.

"Lavellan are you back?" Cullen calls from the other side of the wall. She could hear him moving around in the other room before hearing the door shut. The next moment she could hear hushed whispers outside of her bedroom door. She could not make them out but she knew it was likely Cullen and Harding talking about her.

Cassandra was away for a few weeks to train the new seekers. Cullen, Harding, and herself were starting a new organization. Not as large as the Inquisition had been but they were hopeful to would be strong enough to stop Solas.

She listens as her door squeaks open. "How did it go?" Cullen asks as he walks over to her. Drenis looks up and saw Harding standing in the doorway. Cullen smiles to try and hide his concern. She could tell. "Did the Devine's contact show?"

"Yes."

"Who was it?" Harding asks.

"The Hero of Ferelden."

Harding's eyes widen. "You met the Warden?"

"Yes."

"What did she want?" Cullen asks. He acted as if this was no surprise to him, maybe it wasn’t. Though Drenis doubted Leliana had told him so maybe he was feigning his act.

"She told me the missing elves are hiring others and are serving Solas."

"That confirms our suspicions." Cullen says and he looks back at Harding who nods.

"It doesn't help us much beyond that." Drenis pushes herself off her place on her bed to sit up right. "We need spies. Someone who can go unnoticed while invading their ranks. We need actual eyes on Solas. I'm done chasing ghosts." Her anger was evident. She was frustrated beyond belief as he search for Solas went on. "It's been over a year. As far as we know he could be ready to destroy us all now."

"If he was why would he wait? Don't worry Lavellan. We still have time." Cullen assures her.

“Only as much as he gives us.” Drenis mutters bitterly under her breath. She felt disgusted with herself, with Solas, with all the Dalish elves she once celebrated. Drenis angrily rolls onto her side, so her back was now to Cullen and Harding. She hated how she felt and all her thoughts right now. They couldn’t lose this world, it was her home, and though it wasn’t perfect she still didn’t want to lose it.

“Drenis,” Cullen begins, but he stops short when the sound of the front door opening.

Drenis didn’t care who it was she just wanted them to get Cullen and Harding out of there. She knew they were just trying to help but Drenis didn’t want any help right now. She wanted a way to defeat the man she once had cared for. he had lied to her just like Blackwall had.

“Hey Curly. Is Lavellan back? Aveline told me she saw her walk by her patrol.” The familiar voice of Varric’s filled the room and it did cheer Drenis up somewhat to hear it.

“Yes, but I do not think now is a good time.” Cullen cautions.

“You’re starting to sound like Ruffles, Cullen.” Varric lowers his voice. “Did the meeting not go well with the contact?”

“They showed but not much new information is known.” Cullen answers and Drenis angrily flings her hand up and points to her ear. She could hear the gulp of air from Cullen before he excused everyone.

Drenis sighs as the door is shut and their voices fade. She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling. "What are you planning, Solas?" Right now would be the moment she would ask her friends for advice but none had any for her on this matter. Cassandra was away, Leliana was divine, Josie was preoccupied at the moment, Dorian was looking but he also had a country to change, and Solas was gone. He was the one she needed advice on how to stop. She knew his goal but not how he would achieve it. 

Everyone was in the dark and even though Dorian was looking for any evidence or possibilities, he was as clueless as to how the demented elf would destroy this world, as much as she was.

The question wasn't what he was planning but how was he going to do it. How could one elf bring about the end of the world? Well it turns out, in many ways.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, how did it go?" Alistair asks from his seat at the small, wooden table.

Neira walks over and kisses his cheek, before taking her own seat next to him. "It did not go as great as I had hoped. You and Leliana were correct. She is not so easy to talk too.” Neira lets her head hang over the back of the chair. Her wet hair still clung to the sides of her face. She closes her eyes and tries to focus. Trying to tune out the music. She loved the melody. It had never terrified her like it did others but it's increase volume had caused her more stress. Hearing was getting harder.

Neira gasps at the new weight on her shoulders. Opening her eyes she sees Alistair standing behind her. Rubbing her shoulders. “You know you've traveled a great distance recently. You should rest.”

Neira laughs and relaxes under his hands. “How can I rest when I have someone attacking my shoulders?” She was surprised since her armor was still soaked from the rain. She hadn’t had the chance to change yet.

“Attacking? Hardly. I'm massaging your knots out.”

“If that's what you call it. Who taught you to do so, so roughly?” Neira teasingly asks.

“If you don't like it I can stop.”

“That may be more helpful.” Neira continues.

“Okay then.” Alistair says raising his hand up and backing away from her with a grin on his face.

Neira pouts. “I was only joking. Though it wasn't necessarily wrong.” She mutters the last part.

“I heard that.”

“So?”

Alistair shakes his head trying not to laugh. A small chuckle escapes anyways. Then he raised his face with a serious expression over it. Neira’s face fell as well in response. “They're getting stronger.” Alistair says interrupting the silence.

“I know.”

“We can go back. Back to the wardens and get help.”

Neira remains quiet. Thinking about their entire situation. Soon Alistair would have to return. They had left Stroud with the wardens of Orlais until their return, but in all honesty it was only Alistair who had to go back. It would be unnecessary for her to go to them. She could stay and help. She could finish what she came to do.

“No.” Alistair declares.

“What?” Neira asks surprised by the sudden interruption of her thoughts.

“Neira I know that look on your face. It was the same look when we started on this quest. When we were called to Orlais and separated. You were going to suggest doing so again. I can tell.”

Neira looks away. She had been planning on it, but now she knew no such suggestion would be heard or listened too. Of all the times she had talked herself out of situations her silver tongue had run dry.

“Neira we said we would not,”

“I know.” Neira interrupts. “I know what we said Alistair but I can not give up yet. We're close. We have to be.” Neira says as she places her elbow on the table. She rubs her head before letting it fall back again. “Tell me what it is I should do Alistair. The song is getting louder, louder than it had ever been even during the blight. I know you're hearing it as well. You wear a spaced expression whenever we are not talking nowadays or when you are not ordering the men about. The cure is out there and I will find it.”

“No. We will find it.” Alistair states calmly as he grabs Neira’s free hand. “But we're staying together.”

Neira smiles. “You're so stubborn.”

“With a silver tongue like yours I have to be. It's my only defense.”

Neira rolls her eyes and pulls him close into a tight hug, only letting him go when the front door opens. That was when she realized that she hadn't seen Hark or Jowan since she had been back. There was loud barking met with the quiet order of another. “Quiet now Hark. The neighbors will start complaining again.”

Neira pats her knee as Alistair steps back. Narrowly avoiding being rammed into by the large war dog, with Neira. Neira was quick to catch him as he jumped into her arms. His head fell into the crook of her neck as his body’s full weight hits her. Her, Hark, and the chair all fell to the ground.

Neira laughs as Hark begins licking her face with fever. “Hark, you have made a mess.” Jowan says in his usual monotone voice. It always made Neira sad to hear it. She tries not to cringe and instead stuffs her face into Hark’s fur.

“He missed you.” Alistair says in his usual cheerful demeanor.

“He always does when you do not take him with you.” Jowan adds as he walks over and unhooks the leather leash he had been using to walk Hark. His hair had grown a little longer over the last few months. Neira made a mental note to cut it for him again. His robes were no longer those of the chantry but a pair of grey warden mage robes she had lying around. That way no one would ever bother him whenever she or Alistair weren’t with him. Jowan wraps the leather around his hand before setting it on a shelf by the corner fireplace.

Harks whines as Neira tries to sit up. He shoves himself further onto her and she pushes him down into her lap. “Sit boy. Heel.” She orders, her voice still gentle and sweet. Hark sits on top of her lap and stops moving. He whines a little and Neira pats his head. “You’re not in trouble. You just need to calm down.” Hark’s mouth forms what appears to be a smile. He pants happily and Neira squeezes her arms around his neck. “You silly Mabari.” She lets him go and pats his head affectionately.

“Last time you left without him, he was stuck without you for several months.”

“That was years ago Alistair. Back when I was in charge of Amaranthine. He was in service to the crown then anyways. I had to fight Anora’s kennel master tooth and nail in order to even get him back when I did.” Neira says as she growls at the memory. “I haven’t left him alone for that long ever again. Though I guess I can see how he would get worried.”

“We both do.” Alistair whispers. He was sitting down again, his elbow resting on the table. His chin was rested in his hand. When Neira looked back at him he turns away and looks over at the tranquil Jowan. He shouldn’t have said that. It hurt her and it would start another fight. It always did. Neira hated to feel as if she had done something wrong when she was trying to do what was right.

Neira’s face becomes downcasted. “Alistair. How many times have we-” She stops. “I’m suddenly really tired. It turns out you were right Alistair. I think I may have become faint from my long,  **long** trip. I’ll be in the bedroom.” She says and stands up. She ignores the Hark’s whining as she stalks off.

Hark started to follow but stops and turns back to Alistair. The large mabari growls a threat at the grey warden before he turned his back to him and went to keep Neira warm company.

“I suddenly think I know how Zevran feels.” Alistair says with a great big sigh.

“I think you will be sleeping on the couch tonight.” Jowan says as he walks away from Alistair and steps into the kitchen.

“Yeah, I think that’s clear as day buddy.” Alistair shouts after him.

He sighs and scratches the back of his head. Sitting there in silence was weighing, but things weren’t really silent for Alistair. Not yet. He remains, trying to tune out the song, but of course it remained, and his eyes become glazed as he uses his nails to scratch marks into the table. There were no darkspawn nearby so that was a relief. So there were no voices that accompanied the tune. Just the music. It wasn’t as loud as it was while Corypheus was still around but it was still louder than it had ever been before him. If he wasn’t careful he could get lost in it.

“Alistair.” Jowan calls out and the warden turns his focus towards the tranquil mage. “You are doing it again.” He states before walking up the stairs, carrying a tray with a glass of water, a few berries, a plate with cookies and a small slice of fennec meat. There was also a dog treat for Hark.

Alistair looks down to see he had scratched three deep marks into the side of the table. Lifting up his hand he saw small bits of the chipped wood pieces stuck under his nails. He had even noticed that he was doing it. Quick to recover from his surprise he fakes a cough and was quick to cover his mouth his his splintered hand.

“Ah well, thank you Jowan. I think I will be heading to bed now.” Alistair calls after him before the tranquil was completely out of sight. He rests his other hand upon his forehead and sighs before moving over to the couch. Tonight was going to be a long night, and he could only hope he would tear open the linen on the bottom of the couch again.

When it was morning there was a knock on the door. That was what had woken Alistair up. The sudden, loud, clear as the sun he had been blocking out with the couch pillow, knock. He groans as he pushes himself up off of the couch. Running a hand through his messy bed hair he hears the door knock again. Looking up at the windows, the sun was barely getting through the curtains. That meant it wasn’t anytime before noon. There was another knock as Alistair tries to narrow down the possibilities in his head.

“I’m coming. Give a man a moment to get up.” He hollers as he stumbles over to the door. As he opens it a familiar accent greets him.

“Honestly, if you are having such troubles I’m sure I could help you with that Alistair.”

Alistair considered slamming the door shut in the Antivan’s face, but thought better of it. Or he had until Zevran gave him a wink. The door was instantly shut and the elf was left outside.

“Come now my friend. Let me in. Was it something I said?” He asks innocently from the other side. Alistair ignores him and lays back down on the couch. The former crow was persistent and would not stop knocking. It came to a point where Alistair just wondered why he didn’t sneak in through one of the windows by now. Then he remembers Hark’s personal opinion over the elf and that he would tear him apart. The thought brought a small smile to the experienced grey warden’s face.

“Alistair, I was asked to come.”

Alistair rolls his eyes, then he remembers that Neira was in the other room asleep. He sits up again and walks over to the door. He was not going to let some loud mouth wake her up when he was already stuck on the couch. The last thing he needed was a grouchy mage and her even grouchier mabari to be angry with him.

“Who told you to come here Zevran?” Alistair asks, opening the door and closing it behind him as he steps outside. There was a small breeze that went nicely with the warm rays from the sun this morning. He felt great in his undershirt and sleeping shorts.

“I see you have only recently awoken. I did not mean to disturb your sleep, but I was told it was important that I hurried.”

“Uh-huh.” Alistair was only half listening as he enjoyed the weather. “You still haven’t said by who.” He opens one eye and watches Zevran with it as the other stays closed and enjoying the weather.

“Why who else would send for me to come here if not for you? Neira of course.” Zevran answers.

“Why?” Alistair questions wondering why he wasn’t told to expect Zevran.

“I don’t know my friend. The letter said to hurry so I did. If you wish to know then we should go ask Neira. Unless she is still asleep. Then I can always come in and wait for her to wake up.” Zevran says with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Alistair looks him up and down for a few moments before he smiles back at Zevran. Alistair agrees to let Zevran in. He opens the door and lets Zevran enter before himself. “Are you hungry?” Alistair asks as he walks past Zevran and into the kitchen.

“Yes I am. Travel has gotten harder from what I last remember it too be in Thedas.”

Alistair looks through the cupboard for something even he could cook as Zevran talks. “Well after the inquisition got the mages and templars under control things were good for awhile. That was until the inquisition was dismantled. Now the rogues and bandits have taken back to the roads that the templar and mage left behind. Here, we can drink this.” Alistair sets a glass of aged ale on the table. “Grey warden ale. If you think your stomach can take it.”

“I am sure it will be once I get some actual food to hold it down with.”

“Alistair I did not know you were up already. I was coming down to make breakfast. Allow me sir.” Jowan states as he walk over to the cupboard and pulls out some meat as well as a few herbs. Alistair didn’t always like having a tranquil around but he did help with the cooking and chores a lot.

“Who is he?” Zevran asks frowning at Jowan. Alistair remembers how he felt about slaves and indentured servants. That must’ve been what he thought Jowan was by his manner.

“He is a friend of Neira’s. She rescued him from the tower long before any of the rebellions of the circles took place. He helps out with the chores since he’s not very skilled at fighting.”

Zevran nods, his expression slowly changing. “He’s a tranquil. Half of them were abandoned by the mages and templars. the rest had been known to be mistreated. It’s better that he’s with her.” Alistair states defensively.

Jowan turns to look over his shoulder at the other two men. “Neira was a friend of mine before I was made tranquil. It has not been bad travelling with her and Alistair. I have been comfortable and kept safe.”

Zevran crosses his arms, and turns his head away. He no longer wanted to discuss this. “And I suppose they would just let you leave if you wanted?” He mutters under his breath. He sits at the table and looks down at it. Looking it over out of boredom. Alistair sits down across from him. He no longer wanted to continue this conversation either. The creaking above their heads caught their attention. Zevran and Alistair both look up as Jowan continues to cook. There was a large thud that hits the ground before silence for a few golden moments. Then there it was, exactly what Alistair had been waiting for. There was a large bark of warning then the floors creak again as Hark runs through the room upstairs and eventually he makes his way to the stairs and down into the living room. Alistair watches as Hark stops sniffing the ground and instead he stares are Zevran. With a snarl on his face the large mabari growls at Zevran and was preparing to knock him right out of his chair. Alistair tries to calm him down before he attacks.

“Now, now Hark. I know you don’t like him but Neira invited him over. We don’t attack our friends Hark.” Alistair says with his best soothing voice as he stands up and begins approaching Hark slowly, with his hands out.

Hark ignores Alistair and steps closer to the elf. He growls a little louder, but doesn’t bark. He knew Neira was still asleep upstairs and he didn’t want to wake her up. Zevran was now smiling down at Hark and he offers a nervous laugh to the mabari. “Aren’t we friends by now Hark?” Zevran asks nervously. Despite his master always being friendly to the elf, Hark didn’t like him. He didn’t trust him. He always smells of foreign lands, and death. Hark was use to these smells of course but on the elf he always smelt something else as well. It was the satisfaction the elf always felt from killing that made Hark untrust him. Not even the qunari took pleasures in his kills he did it because it was his job.

Alistair grabs Hark as the mabari jumps up to attack Zevran. Zevran falls backwards with the chair he had tried to jump out of his chair. Harks slips right out of Alistair’s fingers as he flies over towards the elf. “Someone stop him!” Alistair shouts forgetting that Neira was sleeping right above them.

Jowan smacks Hark on the nose with a wooden ladle. “Stop that.” Jowan commands Hark who glares at him, displeased by being struck with the ladle.

Alistair grabs Hark again and holds the mabari down without hurting him. Hark begins whining and Alistair looks at him sympathetically. “I know boy. He is annoying but we just have to put up with him until he leaves.

“You know that is not quite the kind of warm welcome I was expecting from you Alistair.” Zevran pushes himself back onto his feet. Alistair ignores him and continues to pet the whining mabari as they both sat on the floor and sulk. “You know this isn’t very funny anymore.” Zevran mutters as he picks up the chair that had fallen back with him. He sit down as Jowan sets a plate in front of the chair.

“Breakfast is finished.” Jowan sets another plate down on the other side of the table. Then he walks away and comes back with a two doggie treats and a bowl of cooked meat for Hark to eat. “These are for desert.” Jowan informs Hark before he sets the treat a few inches away form the meat, but Hark did not seem to hear him for he was already chewing on the food in the bowl.

Alistair sits down in the other chair and he looks down at the plate full of food. There was scrambled eggs, cooked fennec meat, a bowl of soup, and a cup of ale. “Jowan we’re so lucky to have you.” Alistair says through a mouth full of eggs. He had gotten better at cooking since he had to learn while traveling in the wilderness by himself when he was on the run. The whole time he missed Neira’s cooking and the meals he use to order at inns. His cooking was still barely edible and while Neira’s was much better, Jowan’s cooking skills put even hers or the chefs at the inquisition’s kitchens to shame.

Zevran gently moves the food around with a fork. He overlooks all of it before finally taking a bite. Alistair wonders if it is because he has been on the run from the crows for so long or if it was because Jowan had made the food.

“What is going on Alistair?” Neira asks with a sleepy voice as she steps down the stairs. She was dressed in her light grey nightgown because she had not been expecting a guest to be sitting at the table with Alistair. “Zevran! What are you doing here?” She asks happily, but with some shock.

“He said you told him to come.” Alistair states before Zevran could swallow the food in his mouth. “Did you not?”

Neira looks between Zevran and Alistair with a confused expression.

“Neira I have the letter right here. It is in your handwriting.” Zevran says as he pulls a letter from inside his shirt.

Neira takes the letter and looks it over. “It’s my handwriting but I never wrote this Zevran.” Then the words on the letter began to change as Neira’s hands begin to shake with it. “Zevran who gave you this letter?” Neira asks the anger and concern in her voice melting together.

“An elf with her hair in braids. She said that one of the chantry girls had asked her to give it to me because of where I was.”

“Where were you?” Alistair asks but when he saw Zevran’s smirk he changes his mind. “Nevermind.”

“I was simply otherwise engaged in business.” He answers anyways.

Jowan intercedes at this point. “What does the letter say Neira?”

The boys look back at a grim faced mage as the letter that was clenched in her hands began to fade away. The letter was glowing but it was disappearing fast in the hands of Neira. Soon there was nothing left and Neira was simply glaring at her hands by that point. She had the words memorized by then anyways and someone was going to pay.

“Neira are you okay?” Alistair asks as he walks over to his wife.

“It’s time to move again. Let’s go Hark!” Neira orders and the mabari comes bounding after her as she walks back upstairs.

“Neira,” Alistair follows her up the stairs and towards their bedroom. She slams the door shut and Alistair opens it carefully before he shuts it again behind him. Neira was now undressing herself before she slips on the cold metal of her armor that was sitting in the corner besides their bed. They never did sleep far from their weapons and armor, for many reasons. They were also both use to having to get dress fast to deal with threats. “Where are we going?” Alistair asks as he changes into his armor as well.

“I’m going to visit the former inquisitor. You’re going back to the wardens.” This causes Alistair to pause as he was putting on his mail.

“Wait, what?”

“Alistair I need to go to speak with the inquisitor. Her “friend” is getting out of hand.” She explains. Alistair could practically see the steam coming off of her. Whatever she had read had made her angry. Beyond how made he had ever seen her before. He was trying to stay out of her way as she began

“Neira I don’t know what was on that letter or what it has to do with the crazy mage, Solas, but we are not with the wardens right now. You don’t outrank me when it’s just us. I’m not just going to leave because you don’t want me to come with.” Alistair argues. Man he really wished Zevran wasn’t right below them. He could probably hear everything. The elf was barely tolerable when he didn’t know they were having spats. Alistair could already hear his voice in his head. ‘Trouble in paradise?’ He would ask with a stupid glint in his conniving eyes.

“Alistair you don’t understand. He knows where we’re staying.”

“We have other houses and hideouts.”

“He has a list. He even listed off three of them on that letter to prove a point.”

“Well, then, we’ll find other places.” Alistair counters. Neria stops packing and she freezes. Her face was covered by her hands and she was shaking. Not crying, but definitely shaking. She only ever did this if she could not possibly see any solution that would make the situation any better. She had been like this on the night of the final battle, before Morrigan had ever approached them with her plan. Alistair wraps his hands around the small elven figure of Neira’s as she goes through the motions. When she was done, and the shaking stops she uncovers her face and had a new expression on. One he rarely ever saw. She leans her head into his shoulder. “Fine. The inquisitor might listen to me better if you are there.” She conceded.

Alistair smiles still she had not answered his question. So he decided to ask it a different way. “Neira, what are we going up against this time?” He asks, not releasing her from his arms yet.

“A madman who thinks he’s a god, an army of his elven followers, and Andraste knows what else. He sent a letter to show that he knows who some of our friends are and how to reach them. His instructions were clear. Stay out of his way, don’t try to interfere, and live out what remains of our lives in one of our hiding places or else he would start taking preemptive measures.” She clenches her hand closed, grabbing a fist full of Alistair’s shirt. “No one threatens my family.” She states and looks up. Alistair could see the anger that was wrapping itself around her right then and it filled her with determination. The expression on her face and in her eyes made Alistair feel bad for whoever it would be that she would take her wrath out on. Yet it also made him very serious.

“We both will.” He says with a nod. She relaxes somewhat and lets go of the bits of his shirt she had been holding onto. “I told you. We aren’t splitting up again my love. I’m with you on this.” He says softly, in his always sweet voice, as he rests her chin on top her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it. New chapter next week on Friday as well. Any suggestions on ways to improve are greatly appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confrontation and an invitation to a game.

Aveline was in her new office. As soon as Varric became viscount he had offered her and Donnic their jobs back. They accepted of course, and Carver had even tagged along. With a heavy sigh Aveline sets down a stack of books she was suppose to go through. That was one side of the job she hadn’t missed, but it was also the most relaxing part of it as well. Despite what Hawke may have been convinced up being the captain of the guard wasn’t all patrols or fighting. As she looks around the new office, she had to give credit to Varric. He made it look a lot like her old office, with some improvements. More space was a perk, and she had a better view of the city. Her office had been moved more towards the front of the building then it’s original place against the back wall. The windows allowed her to see past many of the buildings in uptown and even a little bit of lowtown in the distance.  
“How are you settling in?” She knew it was the dwarf before she even turns around.  
“Yes actually. Thank you Varric.” She wasn’t completely indifferent after her time on the run with Carver and Donnic. She had kept her promise to Hawke for as long as she could, and kept Carver away from the free marches and all the trouble happening in them. Eventually they did come back, after Varric had wrote them all news of Hawke, Carver was insufferable. He would switch from anger to sadness, cursing Hawke’s name one moment then silently shedding his tears by himself the next where he thought Donnic and herself couldn’t hear. At first she was caught off guard. Through all of her years of knowing Hawke she had never imagine that the mage would be dumb enough to go off and get herself killed.  
“I’m glad. I thought the extra space would be necessary for when our games of wicked grace will be played.”  
Aveline gave him a look before leaning back against her desk. She crosses her arms over her chest as she always did. “Who said my office could be used for a game night? Last time I checked this was a place for the captain of the guards to command her officers, not for a few of your friends to come on and play.”  
“Well I said so of course.”  
“Of course.” Aveline says with a snort. “No.”  
“No what?” Varric asks, with a smile on his face. He clearly had already expected this.  
“No we will not be using my room as a place for you and your friends to play your games.” Aveline states. No matter what, she wouldn’t budge. Even if he was her new boss technically.  
“Now, red, be reasonable.”  
“No. You have your new bar, The Hanged Man II. You don’t need to use another.”  
“Ah, but this place would be for special friends only. Those I trust and/or want to impress.” Varric says as he walks over to the windows across the hall. He moves the curtains aside with the comment, “You should keep these open more Aveline. It makes the place a lot more cheerful.”  
“The answer is still no Varric.” They both knew that if he wanted to he could abuse his power to win this fight. Aveline was sure that he wouldn’t go that far. Using it to give the key of the city away, and other lavish gifts to friends, now that he would use it for, commanding one of those said friends, never. Especially since said friend has the whole guard on her and her husband’s side already. None of them would dare face her wrath for the dwarf.  
Varric sighs, a large, overdramatic sigh. He didn’t truly care for the defeat however. That grin of his never left his face and he quick to move onto the next subject. The game hadn’t been his reason for visiting afterall. “How is Donnic doing?”  
“He is fine. Still recovering from the fight between the young mage and carta rogue the other day but he’ll be back to work as soon as I clear him for duty.”  
“So he’s being held captive in bed is he?”  
Aveline rolls her eyes. “I hardly doubt my husband’s health is the reason for your visit.”  
“You always catch on so quick Red.”  
“You know I hate that nickname.”  
Varric laughs. He ignores her comment saying instead, “I haven’t seen Junior in awhile.”  
Aveline watches to see if Varric was trying to still play some game of his. Once she thought that he was indeed not she answers him. “He left a couple of days ago.”  
“I’m surprised he stayed for as long as he had.” Varric says before shaking his head.  
“It didn’t help that you gave the inquisitor the house that was being built over the ashes of Hawke’s family mansion.” Aveline mentions.  
“We all decided burning it down was the right thing to do. I only gave that place to the inquisitor because she lost the inquisition and Carver didn’t want it.” Varric defends his point. “Did he go back to the grey wardens?”  
“I don’t know Varric. I’m not his babysitter.” Varric gives Aveline his signature smile, but right now it was just a cover up. His eyes gave away his concern.  
“You could have fooled me.” Varric teases. He looks back out the window. Aveline was returning back to her work, deciding that the dwarf would leave eventually when he grew bored enough.  
“I guess the grey wardens get around.”  
“What?” Aveline gives him a questioning gaze, her eyebrow arched. Varric was still looking out the window. Watching something else that had now caught his interests. Whatever he saw it most likely meant more trouble for her.

They arrived early in the mourning after having left late the night before. They were lucky they had a friend in the free marches who could take them to Kirkwall. Zevran and Alistair did not want to walk all the way to Kirkwall. They paid the couch fifty sovereigns so it would not stop until they had reached Kirkwall. Occasionally Hark and Neira would hop off of the cart and run alongside it for a few minutes. The two never liked, not being able to stretch their legs over long periods of time. They had voted to walk all the way there but with Jowan as the tie breaker they had lost. Jowan’s reason for choosing to take the couch was the fact that he thought it would help them save energy and they would get there sooner. So they ran, and ran, and ran, until they would almost lose track of the couch and fall to far behind. When that happened, Neira would use her magic to help speed them up or float them back onto the cart.  
When they arrived at Kirkwall Zevran left them to go and find someone. He hadn’t said who or when he would be back, but that was nothing new with Zevran. So Alistair and Neira was now walking around Kirkwall in the twilight hours of the dawn. Hark was walking between them, his tail wagging at a furious speed as he trots with them through the rebuilding city. Neira’s eyes kept wandering around, looking for any signs of trouble. In cities like this one she always had trouble with feeling comfortable. Especially when such a city has a history of mistreating it’s mages in its circle.  
“Relax. You look as if you’re about to be chased out.” Alistair jokes.  
“That’s not entirely impossible, considering how recently the war between templars and mages ended.”  
“Ended by the same person we’re going to meet. Who is also a mage.” Alistair adds.  
“So the blight and the war were ended by mages, and the rebellion in Kirkwall was caused by one.” Neira says sadly.  
“She didn’t cause it.” Alistair says defensively. “She was dragged into it by people who could’ve thrown her whole family out of town.”  
“I know Alistair. I wish I had met her, and she had handled the situation as best as she could’ve. However that is not how some of the people see it. They need a person to blame for it all. So those who do not know all of the details have a tendency to blame Hawke and her friends, who were associated with a mage who had blown up a chantry. Personally if I was going to blame anyone it would be Meredith, Orsino, Anders, or maybe even myself. I made him a grey warden. I am the reason he met Justice. I allowed him to leave, even though I knew he had accepted Justice and they had joined. I gave them each other and allowed them to come to this city. In short, it’s a wonder no one outside a few wardens and others who had been there blame me for this mess.”  
Alistair watches as Neira begins to walk ahead of them a little. He watches her with sad, attentive eyes. Hark whines and Alistair turns towards him. He scratches the large mabari behind his ears. “I know boy. I know.” He answers. Neira had been acting different ever since she got back from looking for a cure. She said she had gotten close but for some reason the trail had gone cold. After receiving that letter Alistair had put Stroud in charge and took some time off. That was almost a month ago, and Alistair had notice a few changes in her. She no longer held that positive outlook on things. She was always smiling during the time they had in between fights and politics when they had been fighting the blight. She also seemed to have stopped believing that everyone could be save, a lesson she had had trouble swallowing even when she couldn’t convince Alistair that Loghain deserved to live. After that she had been sullen up until the final fight. She really wanted to give people second chances, and trust that everyone could do good, but those were the beliefs of a protected innocent and not of someone who had experienced the world. She was a season fighter, a world-renowned mage, a legendary figure, and one of the smartest people he knew. He hated seeing her this way.  
“Neira if you want to find the inquisitor I’m sure we can do so sooner if we pay a visit to the viscount.” Alistair suggests but Neira shakes her head. She points ahead of them towards a large blond man with a mabari hound he was playing with outside.  
“If my eyes don’t fool me, I do believe that is Cullen.” She says jokingly with a small smile forming on her lips.  
“They were close.” Alistair agrees as they walk over towards the former templar.  
“Cullen.” Neira says loud enough for Cullen to hear them without putting him into attack mode. Neira knew better than to sneak up on any templar, former or otherwise. They were always ready for a fight if they felt one was necessary. Plus he had a mabari with him. She did not want to test its temper either.  
Cullen turns around and it was clear he had been caught off-guard. At first he squints at them, and holds a scowl on his face, as if he did not recognize them. Slowly though, his eyes widen and his scowl turns into a look of confusion. His mabari stops playing when he notices Cullen’s hesitation. It looks over at the group and it growls at them.  
“Down, it’s alright. They’re friendly. I hope.” He adds that last part but Alistair and Neira felt it was completely unnecessary. However she could tell by the way Cullen took a gulp that he recognizes her and knew her memory had probably lasted as long as the years had.  
“Don’t worry Cullen, we were just hoping to have a few words Lavellan.” Neira explains with her sweet voice. She was trying to make friends, not enemies. She didn’t agree with what he had done, but she had forgiven him. He was ill at the time, still he wasn’t fully excused. He never would be.  
“Why?” Cullen asks as his mabari walks over to the group slowly. Hark met him before the other mabari could even get near Neira and the others. He looks down at the slightly smaller mabari as it sniffs him.  
“We talked yesterday, and we must do so again. Solas has sent me a very concerning letter I want to talk to her about.”  
“Where’s the letter?” Cullen asks eyeing them.  
“Ask Solas. It broke apart in my hands after I read it. He used a spell of sort to hold it together allowing it to break apart as it was read.” Neira answers as she looks back down at her hand. She would’ve burnt it if it hadn’t fallen apart and evaporated anyways.  
Cullen looks back at the front door of the house behind him. It was one story, not very tall at all, but very wide. Neira glances down to see the obvious signs of burning. There had been another building standing there long before the current one. Large enough to burn hot enough to even char bits of the street nearest to it. Looking around it was the only small house in the district. All of it’s neighbors were large and tall, doing their best to reach the sky. It wouldn’t surprise her if the house that had stood there before this one was as tall as the rest of them, if not larger. This was the upper district after all, or it at least use to be. From what she heard about the new viscount he was trying to help rebuild the city so it was a better place for everyone. Maybe they would get equality. She was hopeful even if it was unlikely that everyone’s lives would improve. The house that stood behind Cullen was clearly still under work. The roof wasn’t on fully, Neira could spot the small holes from here. She was sure they would fix them soon, no doubt distracted by other things.  
Hark barks one loud, clear bark to gain the attention of the ex-templar once more. Neira walks towards hark and the other mabari and smiles. She pats Hark’s head before rubbing his ears with the promise of a treat later. The smaller mabari reacted playfully. It barks back before backing down with a smile and a wag of it’s tale. Hark ignores the mabari as it attempts to gain his attention to play.  
“It’s alright.” Neira tells him and Alistair smiles as the stoic mabari quickly grew playful as fast as the smaller one had. The two mabari ran back and forth around the entirety of the street, chasing each other, and practicing their fighting skills.  
Cullen smiles a little at the sight before looking back at the wardens, Surana and Alistair. “I don’t know if she’s up, but if you want you two can wait inside.” Cullen says, more at ease then Neira had expected. Cullen use to be so jittery and nervous back when they had been at the circle. She was glad to see he was more relaxed now and that he did not still hold the same rage against mages that he use too.  
Cullens opens the door and ignores the squeaking sound the new hinges made. “That must get annoying.” Alistair jokes.  
“Maybe, but when we were rebuilding skyhold the squeaky hinges were everywhere. I’ve gotten use to tuning such noises out. They still stand out in the middle of the night however.” Cullen responds as he moves some papers from around the room and onto a shelf that was already filled beyond what should’ve been it’s normal capacity of books and papers.  
“Of course.” Neira says with an understanding smile that reaches her eyes. She had always been good at giving those.  
Cullen nods his head as he move to check something in the backroom. Looking around Neira and Alistair could see that the house was much larger on the inside then the initial impression it gave them. The holes in the ceiling also gave it a somewhat more natural look.  
Cullen came back with a broad smile on his face. It reminded Neira of the ones he sometimes wore at the circle when Gregor would compliment him or when he was talking with his fellow templars. “She’s still asleep, as I thought. Have you, uh, ate yet?” He asks awkwardly not sure if he should offer them anything or not. He rubs the back of his neck.  
“We’re good. Do you mind if we sit to wait?” Alistair asks resting a hand on Neira’s shoulder.  
“No, go ahead. She’ll probably be up soon, until then can you begin telling me about this letter? Any information concerning Solas is vital at the moment. We don’t have many people working for us anymore.” Cullen admits as he sits across from them. His gaze rose back up to stop on Jowan who chose to stand rather than sit.  
“I know you don’t I?” Cullen asks trying to place him.  
“Yes.” Was all Jowan said to answer.  
“That’s Jowan, Cullen. You two use to talk, sometimes though rarely the three of us would discuss the occasional topic.”  
“Oh yes, the blood mage who ran away from the tower the same day the wardens took you away.” Cullen says, frowning deeply at the memory or maybe he was frowning at Jowan.  
“Yes.”  
“Man, that seems like ages ago.” Alistair adds. He runs his hand through his hair and leans his head back. “You know, when our only concern was an arch-demon and not the combatting of elven gods, and destruction of our world.” He says before smiling fondly on those times.  
“The world was in danger of being destroyed back then as well. By an army of darkspawn led by an arch-demon. How do you forget the army?” Neira questions.  
“Because half-the time they were hurlocks and grunts who were easy, plus we had Shale and Sten back then. It wasn’t like we were outmatched or anything.” Alistair adds as Neria rolls her eyes.  
“If I may interrupt, why is he with you?” Cullen asks as he directs their looks back towards the tranquil mage. He had already spotted the marks of a tranquil but he couldn’t recall when the mage had been made tranquil.  
“I like to tell people that I came across him when the circles were falling apart, but the truth is I had a chantry sister who was a friend of mine watch out for him. When the circles were truly beginning to fall apart from the indecision and disagreements, I asked her is she could get him to safety. Everyone always forgets about the tranquil. She managed to send him away to help a group of dwarves who were bringing lyrium to the circle. He was suppose to help the dwarves carry them up but then I had a very brusque dwarf I know take him away. They later met with me, but it took them quite some time to catch up. I wasn’t even in Thedas by then.” Neira explains with a fond smile. “So in short he’s with me because he is my friend and I want to keep him safe.”  
“Being near us isn’t always the safest place.” Alistair adds with a sad laugh.  
“Exactly why I leave Hark in charge of him in such cases dear.” Neira retorts playfully, with a smirk.  
“Can’t he still use blood magic?” Cullen questions. His hand was kneading the palm of his sword. Even when he wasn’t in charge of commanding or training others the man was always armed. Could he not even relax in his own home. Then again Neira wasn’t one to judge. She would probably sleeping with a blade on her if she didn’t have confidence her her magic. Then again, not everyone has magic.  
“Maybe, however, since he has been made tranquil he hasn’t performed any magical feats.” Neira explains. “Even his cooking is as bad as ours.” Neira adds jokingly.   
Cullen didn’t smile at the joke as Neira had expected. “Uh-huh.” He looks back to the wardens while keeping an eye on Jowan. The tranquil would barely move and Cullen would move all his focus back onto the mage.  
Alistair sat at the table with one arm around Neira’s shoulders and the other was tapping a melody against the top of the table. Cullen listens but could not place the unrythmic melody that he was tapping, maybe it was just a random thing he was tapping along with that his mind had concocted. Alistair was watching Cullen, occasionally moving his gaze to Neria or to the door where the former inquisitor was supposedly sleeping.  
“So can we talk about the elephant in the room yet?” Alistair blurts untactfully. He saw that it made the former commander jump somewhat and Neira had darted her eyes towards a creaking sound from anothe rpart of the house.  
“Is that a no?”  
“Wh-what would that be?” Cullen questions. “The elephant?”  
“It’s not as much of an elephant as it is an elf. Shouldn’t we be discussing plans to deal with him?” Alistair asks not enjoying the silence at all.  
“I thought we would wait for Lavellan.” Neira replies.  
“We could start without her.” Cullen states.  
“Why? She listening in anyways.” Neira comments then gestures toward the back door. Drenis’s feet were just slightly peeking out from under the door. It opens slowly right after Neira voiced that she had seen Drenis.  
“How could you tell? Did you sense me? Or heard my floor creaking from my weight?” Drenis asks sarcastically.  
“No.” Neira answers clearly confused. “I did hear the floor creak but it had never crossed my mind that it was you. Was it?”  
“Then how did you know I was listening?”  
“You’re feet were sticking out from under the door.”  
Drenis sighs and walks over to sit besides Cullen. She rests her head sleeply against his shoulder. It was true that she had been listening, hoping to hear something without having to talk to the grey warden again. Hadn’t once been enough? Drenis shoves her face deeper into Cullen’s neck to block out the light from the window behind the two grey wardens. “Come to give me more cryptic messages?”  
“Actually this one was given to me. Supposedly from Solas though it was probably one of his servants who wrote it and sent it for him.”  
Drenis felt herself wake up a little more. She moves so that she was now looking at the Grey Wardens, she regretted it because of that blasted light. “Where is it?”  
“I don’t know. It fell apart in my hands and all traces of disappeared.” Neira explains.  
Drenis felt her spirits fall. She had never been much of a morning person so she always had low ones at the beginning of the day anyways. Drenis runs a hand over her face to get the bits of sand from her eyes. Then she covers her mouth as she yawns before asking, “So what did it say?”  
“The direct words of the letter were these; I know what you are doing Grey Warden. I recommend you stay this course and actions you are planning to take. We know of your allies and your power, however you may not know as much about us or the fade as you think you do. It would be terrible if your small shack in the mountains outside of ferelden would burn up as well as all that research of yours. I hope you enjoy yourself, and I would advise that you stay away from the former inquisition.” She left out the part where he wished her a happy last few years. She doubted she even had that long.  
Cullen looks to Lavellan who sighs and rubs her eyes again. “I can’t tell if that was actually Solas or one of his lackeys taking the initiative.”  
“Whoever it was I am not comfortable with them sending my friends with messages that are threats to me.” Neira says her temper peeking out through her words.  
“I am sure you do not. This is a situation none of us enjoy Grey Warden. We are trying to find him.”  
“We know you are, Drenis.” Alistair says. “However we would like to help. We may not be in the best of shape anymore but we can aid in stopping an elf bent on destroying our realm.”  
“Speak for yourself. I am in fine shape.”  
“I was speaking of the dog dear.”  
“Hark is in great shape as well.” Neira pouts as she quietly replies. THe mabari was getting up there in years but Neira still only saw the warrior dog she had seen when she first met and cured the poor mabari.  
“How could you help us exactly Alistair? What are you thinking of?”  
“Well we have a few connections of our own and even though we aren’t much in the spotlight anymore we can still rally a small militia together if the need ever arises. Also, I may know a few powerful mages that can get us into the fade. My wife here included.”  
“You’ve been to the fade? Physically?” Cullen asks completely surprised. He rubs his temples and tries to imagine what had happened to the young mage he had known in the circle. She was acting the same she had always done but he could tell she had changed. The air around her was different and her eyes held an even greater source of wisdom then what had use to be there when they were younger. He could only imagine what she must’ve done.  
“Yes. A few times. Each one very different from the last.”  
“I thought no one had been to the fade physically until,”  
“Your fight at adamant, Lavellan. No, there are a few people who’ve been but we don’t really advertise such feats. Trouble and such tends to follow. If not in the form of templars then in the form of rogues, bandits, mages who would abuse such finds, and of course demons that may follow us either to or fro. Being in the fade physically isn’t so bad, but it is in no way a fun either.”  
“I know someone who would disagree.” Lavellan mutters.  
“Could it be that you’re talking about the elf that is now our greatest enemy?” Neira says with her soft tone and innocent smile. The insult was not lost in her smile however. Drenis knew that the warden had just challenged her. She was hardly one to back down.  
“Yes I do. I also mean other fade mages including myself as well. If there is something you want to say warden, say it. I can’t stand the games people play as if the world itself was Orlais.”  
“I do not play the games of the game of Orlais, a smile can be a weapon as well as a shield Lavellan. You can hardly call me Orlesian for using it.” Neira defends before sighing out of exasperation.  
“Okay, I can see where this is going. I’m glad I showed up before the party ended in big bang. The street has enough scorched marks, don’t you think?” Neira looks over to spot a dwarf in a red vest, standing in the doorway. He wore a friendly look of concern on his face but it was soon replaced with a smile.  
“Varric?” Drenis says somewhat confused as to why the dwarf was here.  
“Hey Dre. I was just coming over to check up on you. Since you seemed so determined to be alone yesterday.”  
“Varric, now might not be the best time.” Cullen says but Alistair was already waving at the dwarf.  
“Varric, nice to see you again.” They had only talked a few times but Alistair enjoys the storyteller’s company. At Skyhold he had quite a few tales that he would share over the occasional game. Alistair didn't play often but when he did he would get distracted and lose because of Varric stories. The dwarf was smart.  
Varric give a slight nod of acknowledgement in response. He then walks over to Cullen and whispers something before turning around to greet the warden. He looks her up and down before offering her a smile. “So you must be the beautiful elf that saved us all from the blight. I can see that rumors can be accurate after all.”  
“Mr. Tethras. I admire your stories and what you've done for your home. You're not quite as vexatious as I have heard.”  
“I don’t suppose you know Carver then.”  
“Not well. He has been under my charge time to time. He's not much of a fan.”  
Varric laughs. He looks down and says, “Yeah that sounds like him” before he turns back to Drenis who was fumbling with the sleeve of her missing arm.  
“We'll be there Varric.” The former inquisitor promises with a genuine smile.  
“See you there then. Your friends can come too of they're staying.” Varric adds before he leaves. Now who else was coming tonight? He wonders as he gives the mabari a large berth between himself and them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the main cast get together to play a game of skill. Or luck mixed with alcohol.

“Let the game begin!” Varric announces as he shuts the door to the office. He walks around the table he has Donnic and another guard bring end. He and Fenris brought in the chairs.  
Varric walks around the table and past his already seated guests. He sits right beside Cullen and Drenis who sat at the head of the table. At the other end sat Harding. In the other seats sat Isabela, Fenris, Aveline, Donnic, the grey wardens Alistair, and Surana, as well as former seeker Cassandra. There was one empty seat left between Cassandra and Varric.  
“Are we still expecting someone Varric?” Drenis asks as Varric pulls out his deck of cards. He begins shuffling them.  
Varric cuts the deck before answering. “No. I just thought it would be nice to have an extra seat for any unexpected guests.” He answers. He passes the cards out before making his bet. Fenris glares at his cards, Isabella smiles and casts a glance at Fenris’s hand, Harding was staring at her hand, Alistair was frowning, Drenis didn't bother showing how she felt about her hand, Cullen had refused to play, Aveline still held a reluctant look on her face, Donnic was enjoying himself, Cassandra was biting her lip,and the hero of Ferelden was smiling.  
“Looks like this will be quote the game.”  
“Indeed.” Agrees Isabella.  
“Why did you invite us dwarf?” Fenris asks as he makes a decision.  
“I've heard you're the best pirate around Isabela.” Drenis says.  
“I see someone's a fan. Care for a more personal interview Lavellan?” Isabela flirts. Fenris looks at her with his usual grim face.  
“No. None needed. If you agree to help us. Varric has vouched for you.” Drenis says.  
“I fold.” Calls Cassandra.  
“Can’t we just talk about what we came here to talk about? Why do we have to play this game Varric?” Aveline asks.  
“You sure know how to kill the mood Red.” Varric replies.  
“I'm enjoying myself.” Neira Surana says as everyone else places down their hands. She won.  
“Uh-huh.” Mumbles Alistair.  
“Well we do have some things to talk about. Varric thought it best to counter the grim talk with a game.” Drenis answers.  
“Then why are the grey wardens here?” Donnic asks as Isabela now shuffles the cards.  
“They have information and are on our side.” Cullen replies. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair.  
“Limited information but we have a few ways of gaining more. Besides I'm sure nightingale will already be aiding you all. You'll need more fighters then spies. We can be both.” Neira answers.  
“Now for the elephant in the room.” Varric begins. Alistair and Fenris fold. “What do we do about Fen’Harel?”  
“We need to gather information first.” Cassandra says.  
“I disagree. We can do nothing with information if we have no one to act on it. We need more allies. People we know we can trust.” Cullen states.  
“I know a few people. Some are grey wardens but they won't mind keeping a few things from the order.” Alistair says.  
“I fold.” Donnic calls out.  
Aveline glares at her cards before folding as well.  
“I rather keep the wardens out of this.” Drenis says.  
“I have some very loyal guards who can help.” Aveline says.  
“Great.” Cullen says cheerfully.  
“The grey wardens can help. We may categorize fighting darkspawn as our main priority but we do know how to fight. We're less likely to find spies amongst our numbers, and fighting darkspawn gives us a strong resistance to elements that would slow others. Camping and traveling for seven years can toughen up even the weakest fool.” Neira argues.  
“Still what about the grey wardens you don't tell?” Drenis challenges.  
“Weisshaupt won't find out.” Alistair assures. “It would be the first time we went behind them. If they do find out they'll assume that we were striking out on our own again. We have a history of that. It's because we didn't have senior wardens around to show us how to behave like real wardens.” He jokes. “You know, since they all died before they could.”  
Everyone shows their hands and Isabela won this time. Drenis shuffles the deck and passes out everyone’s new hands.  
“I suppose all grey wardens have such a terrible sense of humor.” Fenris remarks.  
“Nope. Him and Anders were just oddballs. Most grey wardens have little or no sense of humor.” Neira says.  
“See they’re a perfect fit for you Spikey.” Varric laughs at the death glare Fenris gives him.  
“I don’t have a death wish.” Fenris remarks grimly.  
“If only you had told Hawke that. I’m sure she wouldn’t have dragged to all those places if you had.” Aveline says as she rearranges her cards.  
Fenris rolls his eyes. They continue to play the game, the leading three members were Isabela, Varric, and the Hero of Ferelden. Eventually the others began to fold more and it was clear the only three who were still really playing the game was Varric, Isabella, and Surana. The others took to talking about the situation and future plans while the cards were pointlessly passed out.  
“So are matters settled now?” Aveline asks as the last round begins.  
“I believe so.” Cullen says. “As long as everyone is clear about the parts they shall play.” He says and leers at the rogues still playing the game with the mage.  
“Don’t worry we’ll play nice and go along for now.” Isabella says as Fenris shakes his head. His face turns pink and it was clear Isabella was playing a different kind of game with him under the table. Aveline actually scoots a bit farther from them, visibly disgusted.  
“Ahmm.” Cullen coughs to clear his throat. “Then we shall next see each other for the next game. Which should be a few nights from now.”  
Everyone agrees and Cullen smiles. he starts getting up but Drenis stops him. “The game isn’t over yet. Some of us didn’t play last time.” She says with a wicked grin.  
“I really don’t think that’s necessary.” Cullen insists.  
“Of course it is. Come on Cullen. Sit down back down. One more game and then everyone will go home.”  
“Well, most of us at least.” Isabella adds with a giggle before winking at Merrill.  
“She’s right. I’m staying at the Hanged Man tonight. I leave for home in the morning.”  
“I don’t think that’s what the pirate queen meant Daisy.” Varric says with a small curl of his lips and a shake of his head. As if he was suddenly feeling a lot more tired than usual. In a way he was. This felt just like old times, with a few additions. He wouldn’t be lying if he said that he wished the seeker hadn’t come, or the wardens.  
Varric deals and passes out the cards. Even Cassandra and Cullen play this time. In the end Isabella cheated and Merrill won. So she won the pot this time. Which was probably a good thing because Merrill came back broke and Varric had been paying for her room and board.  
“Daisy, all I’m saying is that you may want to walk back with Isabella and Fenris. Kirkwall is still Kirkwall after all.” Varric says and Daisy smiles.  
“I’ll be fine Varric. I can handle myself.”  
“I don’t doubt you’re magic.” He says with a sigh. Daisy gives him a hug before leaving. Varric looks over at Aveline who gives him a nod before leaving with Donnic moments later. At least he was sure Daisy was getting home safe tonight. He was sure Carver would try to skin him alive if anything happened to her as well. Junior was even more determined to make a name for himself after his sister’s death. He missed her more then he would say, but the thing about having known him before he was a warden, Varric could read Carver’s tales. No matter how much he had learned or at least tried to learn how to hide them. Leaning against the door frame Varric watches as everyone leaves Aveline’s office, in either groups of two or singles. The last ones to leave were the Inquisitor and Cullen. He could tell the Inquisitor felt strained. He didn’t have to spy on her or read her tales. She told him. The inquisitor trusted few these days. Not that Varric could blame her.  
They had all trusted Solas. Now he was going to destroy them all. Varric would die before he allowed that to happen. He would prefer it if he didn’t but Hawke hadn’t sacrificed her life for everyone just so they could all be destroyed by a crazed mage. Even if he was ancient. Mages, templars, the war was over yet those words were still causing trouble. TItles, something everyone fights for. That and freedom. Funny enough people could get drunk off of both. Varric continues to amble through the halls as he shifts through his thoughts. He closes the door to his own office and looks over at the other door way. It led to his bedroom, but he hasn’t used it once. He never sleeps here in this building, even though many of the nobles and city officials expect him too.  
The thought makes Varric laugh. Him sleeping in that bed. If he had learned anything from his time with Hawke it was that moving up in the world and enjoying the benefits often led to more trouble than you would ever think. The last viscount had been killed by qunari. What would happen to him?  
“That’s what happens when you try to change things Varric. Things change.” Varric quickly looks for the source of the voice before he realizes it was his mind playing tricks on him again. Those were some of the last words she ever said to him and of course, she was right. Somehow in someway, even if it wasn’t always the way you’d expect, Hawke was right. Now he was changing things even more. For the better. He was making Krikwall safer, or at least safer than what it had been during the war between templars and mages. The city was slowly being rebuilt. From his window he could see the place where Hawke’s estate once stood. After they had burnt it down the street had scorch marks on it and only the old stones remain. Currently the inquisitor and Cullen lived there in a wooden house that was slowly being built and expanded to include the stone walls and layout. It wouldn’t be HAwke’s place, but that was for the best. He wasn’t sure if he could handle anyone but Hawke living in that estate. Maybe it was sad, or foolish, if he was being honest it was both, but he was glad the Hawke estate was gone, that Junior and he had burnt it down, as one final goodbye to their favorite mage.  
Varric grabs a glass pours himself a drink and holds it out of the window as he lazes back against the panning. “Well Hawke, if things don’t go as plan,” He stops. He didn’t know if he’ would be joining Hawke wherever she is or if he would return to the darned stone. “We all may be following after you a little sooner than planned.” He drinks the alcoholic drink as if it was nothing, and compared to what they use to drink together it really was nothing. He screws his face as the poor taste goes down. “I have to get myself some better drinks. Even Isabella wouldn’t drink this stuff.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was cold here, yet she knew that was just her mind playing tricks on her. There was no such thing as temperature here. She was imagining things to fill in the spaces of unfamiliarity with stuff she knew. It was dark now, was there such a thing as time here? She wasn’t really sure. From all the legends and books she read in the past, the answer would seem to be no but then why were there times when it was darker than at others. Maybe that was because she kept moving. It was the only thing she did nowadays, walk, or when she was feeling competent, run.  
There was a scream from somewhere. The voice was familiar but she knew there wasn’t anyone really there. It was another trap to lure her in and keep her there. The fade was filled with traps set up by demons and spirits of the dead.  
She continues to walk, beginning to drift off. She allows her eyes to close as she continues to move. It didn’t matter if she fell asleep or stays awake. She was still here. The moments she would drift off she would use those to scout ahead to see if there was any danger nearby. When she awakes she will check to make sure her few possessions were still on her. As she always does. No one would bother to steal them but she was always afraid that something new and terrible would be clinging to them once she awoke. So far she had fought small nightmares, lust demons, and a couple of pride demons. Those were rarer thankfully. Pride and rage demons were always the more difficult ones for her to dispatch.  
She was also careful of the smaller things in the fade. One week ago, or so she had decided it had been, there was a small spirit clinging to the gem that rested in the hilt of her staff. At first she thought the little spirit was cute, and allowed her guard to slip. She even traveled with it for a bit. It was a long time before she realized she was going in circles. It only took a few repetitive turns more to figure out what was the cause of it. The spirit was keeping her from finding her way so that she was trapped with it. She wasn’t sure why, and she didn’t really care. In mere moments she was frying the spirit alive, if you could call a spirit alive. Then she was once more on the move again.  
Right now she was somewhere mountainous, it was still the fade even in her dreams. Since it was a dream she could not see the fade as clearly as she would if she was awake. She pushes herself past the illusions that the veil tries to force her to stay in. She was getting better at ignoring the fake for what was real. When the dreams got wilder it was because she was breaking them more easily. Either her own mind did not want to face the fact of where she was and what she knew or it was or the veil itself was working in favor of the fade to keep her ignorant. Both were possible and it made her smile to think of how Varric would run away with those theories and go wild with new stories of dreams and the fade since he has never experienced dreams for himself it would mostly be embellishments of her own or his other friends.  
Varric. She did not want to think about him right now. As the dream begins dissolving into another mirage she forces herself awake, also a talent she had gotten good at. She makes sure everything is still on her and that she was alone. Ever since nightmare, Hawke had trouble feeling alone. At first she would hide away and wait to see what was following her, or she would walk while occasionally turning around to see what was there. Nothing ever was, and she was quick to accept the fact that she was losing her mind. Even now she understood the inevitable, that she was going to die in the fade.  
She walks past an apparition of a table. Giving pause, she turns back around and sees a deck of cards lying on top of the table. She stares blankly at the table. Somehow she ended up at the table, reaching for the deck of cards. She stops her hand mere inches above the playing set. No, it was a trick. Everything here was a trick, nothing was real. It was all traps laid there by demons. She turns her back to the table and heads the way she thought she had been going before.  
At times she would allow herself a break. When her hunger got the best of her and her thirst left her wishing for anything with substance. At least she could solve the later problem. Even when she could find phatom water to drink, she always made sure to boil it first. The first time she tried she was surprised to find that the water could actually boil. It reacted just like regular water reacts. The only reason she continues to call it phantom water was because it was the only catchy thing she could think to call it.  
“Hawke.” She ignores the voice. It wasn’t real, she tells herself. Over and over again. This time the voice grew louder and continues to follow her. One of the spirits hadn’t realized that she was dangerous to mess with, yet. She turns around to confront whatever it was. Her staff and her body ready to teach it a lesson.

The wardens began writing letters from a different hideout of theirs. One Solas had not mentioned in his message. They met with few friends, and even fewer of those who were not already involved in the plan.  
Harding continues to work her few connections that she had absolute trust in. She was becoming the new eyes of the resistance against Solas. Since Leliana was now busy as the divine.  
Varric handled Kirkwall. He continues to build the city back up, while relaying messages on occasion between two of their members. He would add extra information here and there when he had some. Sometimes he would accidently write a part of his latest book onto one of the notes and would offer an apology after being told of such mistakes. Of-course not without getting some opinions over the work. He was careful not to let anyone learn of why there were so many birds for him. Besides was it not common during these times for a leader of a city to keep in good contact with his neighboring cities.  
The Inquisitor began to wake up and train again. She let go of her despair, but never her anger or determination. She was more active again and trains some under her in secret along side Cullen, who manages the occasional mercenary force they would use for odd jobs. Mainly it was the Chargers who they acquired. Sometimes they would need an outside touch. He handled those.  
Dorian was slowly but surely gaining support within the magistratum and painstakingly slow minds began to change. He offers advice and counseling to the former Inquisitor. Drenis was grateful. Dorian also sent her all information he could gather on anything that may lead them to Solas, along with his promise to be there when she would confront him. “Do not think I can not offer aid from so far away. Bull is ready to spring me any time you need us.” He would joke. Drenis wasn’t sure if that was true or not but she appreciates the sentiment.  
Soon they would have a small army. Right now however they had to recruit.  
“Have you received any replies?” Drenis asks aloud.  
“One.” The grey warden answers.  
“The one we wanted to receive the least.” Alistair groans as if he had a massive headache.  
“Alistair! Don’t say that! He lead the armies while we handled the archdemon and he even join the grey wardens.”  
“And since then he seems to turn up wherever he can cause the most trouble and proceeds to drink everyone under a table. Literally.”  
“Quit it. He has a child now, he is more responsible then he use to be.”  
“A child who letters he sends for proofing. Honestly has he ever seen the boy?”  
“Yes. He has seen him. He’s with them right now.”  
“Can we please get this conversation back on track?” Drenis interrupts. “Everyone else has already reported in about how far their sides are coming along. While you two have made no direct contact with anyone but apparently a deadbeat, drunk, warden. You know all the stories I’ve heard about how heroic and fierce you two were. I’m seriously starting to doubt such tales.”  
“A little more faith would be appreciated Drenis. Besides we are setting out today to meet with someone who holds potential.” Neira says.  
“We agreed no one unless we trust them completely. Is this person you’re leaving to meet the warden you were just discussing?”  
“No, someone less of a warrior more of a rogue.” Alistair answers. “I made her acquaintance a few years ago, she is not a grey warden but she has saved our lives on a number of occasions. She’s a spy but she is a trustworthy one.”  
Drenis sighs from exhaustion. Before she had been named Inquisitor she never would have believed such a statement. By now, however, spies have proven useful, over and over again. They could be a double edge sword if not carefully examined or if they were untrustworthy in the least.  
“How could she help us?” Drenis wanted a profile, such as the ones her advisors use to give her.  
“She has a small network. Mainly she works for nobles or she use to. Now she freelances, and aids the grey wardens when they plan adventures into the deep roads. I do not know how she obtains so much information about the underground systems, for she is no dwarf, but I don’t think I would want to know either.”  
“So far not encouraging.” Drenis complains.  
“Look we can trust her, if you don’t think so then test her out a few times. Have Harding work with her, she was trained by Leliana, she could tell is Rona is trustworthy or not.”  
“So her name is Rona.” Drenis says aloud. She thinks over the name, trying to figure out if she had ever heard it before. She doesn’t remember ever having occurred it during her time as Inquisitor. That could be either good or bad. “Alright. Go meet with her. Take Harding with you. If she doesn’t trust this rogue then do not bring her back, keeping everything secret from her until otherwise should be obvious.”  
“Yeah. It typically is.” Alistair says with a smile.  
Drenis smiles back before saying, “just make sure you three come back in one piece. I would hate to lose such campable fighters.”  
“Yes ma’am.” The warden says with a cheerful tone before she grabs Alistair by the neck of his armor.  
The two find Harding waiting directly outside of the house. She was speaking to Cullen who was actually laughing about something. Neira whistles and her mabari comes running from around the corner. Behind him came Cullen’s mabari and Jowan who was having trouble keeping up.  
“Jowan, what’s wrong?” Neira asks as he slows to a stop in front of her. He was breathing heavily and his face looks paler.  
“Nothing Neira. I am fine.” He claims as he stands up a little straighter. “I was simply keeping track of Hark like you had asked.”  
“Thank you Jowan, but you really didn’t have to chase him. Here,” she hands him a cookie. After travelling with sten she always carries a few cookies on her at all times. Jowan eats the cookie quietly as Neira pats Hark’s head. “Harding, the Inquisitor wishes for you to join us in meeting a potential ally.” Harding nods in understanding.  
“Alright let me finish talking with Cullen and I will meet you guys, out on the edge of the city.” Harding informs them and finishes her talk with Cullen.  
They had visited Kirkwall more times in the last month then they had during the rest of their lives. Neira did not like the city very much. She was happy it was nothing like Denerim, for she still had trouble entering that city again. Alistair liked the city. He had been here twice before and both times the visits was short. Lately he had been able to spend a little bit more time getting to know his way around it and the food the stalls offered.  
“Leaving again so soon, grey wardens?” Varric asks as they walk past him in lowtown.  
Neira watches him with a careful eye. She liked the dwarf, and the stories he told. Especially the ones about her old friend, and ally, Anders. Before he and Justice met their ends. However she could tell that he was often hiding his apprehensiveness when around them. His hands often felt stiff when they would greet each other and he was careful with the subjects he approached with them. She felt it was because of the lost of his friend, that perhaps Varric blames the wardens for the loss of Anders, as well as the last of the Hawkes. Carver was still alive but in truth he was doomed with the rest of the grey wardens.  
“Yes, we should be going. When we stay here for too long, the letters begin to pile up.”  
“You get a lot of letters?” Varric asks.  
“Whenever we stay at one place for too long.” Neira answers. “Lately Harding has insisted on reading them all. I would rather it be Leliana instead. For some of them are a bit more personal than others. I would rather a friend read them then an almost total stranger.”  
“Harding’s good people. She won't use any of it against you if there's no bad business you are trying to hide.” Varric explains.  
Neira smiles her typical smile. “Well then I have nothing to worry about. We’ll be seeing you Mr. Tethras.” She says with a wave as they walk away.  
Alistair and her wait outside the city for a bit. She leans against one of the walls as he sits down, cross legged on the floor. Jowan held a treat in his hands as Hark ran around through the exercises Neira had designed for him. She ignores the people who walk in and out of the city, waiting for Harding to arrive. A few children try to run over and play with Hark. Neira gives a low whistle to remind the mabari to go easy on them. Hark was quick to leave his exercises for a chance to do something else.  
Hark was careful with the children. He was still powerful but in his old age he had grown to be more cautious with those around him. Especially children. Neira was not if this was from old age or if the mabari had matured and learned from past experiences. Whatever the case she was glad none of the children were hurt while playing with him. She watches with a smile on her face as they run off again to where their parent’s cart was.  
She caught Alistair watching as well from the corner of her eye. Neira quickly turns her attention elsewhere trying not to think at their own failed attempts at having a child. It was better that they had not had one for those few moments of peace when they considered trying to raise one was interrupted by wardens, demons, and the politics of Ferelden, for she was still the arl of Amaranthine. She had responsibilities, so did he.  
“Wardens!” Catching her attention, Neira’s hands were already around the hilts of her sword and dagger.  
Harding comes running over to them, practically bouncing down the steps as she hurries to meet them. “I’m ready.” She heaves the pack on her back a little higher. “So where are we going?”  
“Well last time I spoke to her she was heading farther into the free marches. The last thing she wanted to do was get caught up in any kind of mess that the Inquisition may cause. So that was about four years ago. She is most likely still there if she wanted to avoid the inquisition. Unless she moved on to tevinter. One of the few people who wouldn’t make assumptions about vints.” Alistair closes his eyes and thinks. “That may be because she always took time to dig up their secrets first.”  
“I can’t imagine a spy staying in one area for so long.” Harding says. She pulls out a map hands it to Alistair. “Where was she heading to, any mention of a town or city maybe?”  
Alistair looks around and scrunches his face as he tries to recall. “I can not think of any specifically.” He frowns and rubs the back of his neck with one hand while holding the map still in the other. “I would say our best bet would be to find out where the wardens are and if any of them had been in contact with her recently.”  
“Well it’s something to go off of at least.” Harding says not sure how far they would be able to go off of that.  
“Now that it’s settled, shall we be off?” Neira asks. She whistles for Hark and the Mabari was at her heels in moments as they set off.  
Alistair smiles and follows, with her leading as usual it felt more like when he was younger. Harding tries not to laugh but smiles lopsidedly at the sight and the carefree attitudes of the wardens. She tries not to think about what may come if they do not act fast. The world may be ending but who's to say they couldn’t enjoy life while they try to save it. She looks over to Jowan who carries a backpack and follows behind Alistair. This was certainly an odd group the Inquisitor had her travelling with, but odds groups were always her type of people. She runs after them, leading with Neira for she did have the map after all.


End file.
